


Complacency is a Disease

by okaywhateverokayyes



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), Shadowhunters (TV) RPF
Genre: Dealing with internal feelings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Gen, Light Angst, M/M, Malec, Mention of Isabelle Lightwood - Freeform, Mentione of Maryse Lightwood, Season 2B Minor Spoilers, Self-Doubt, light humor, post 2.15
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 14:21:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11488164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/okaywhateverokayyes/pseuds/okaywhateverokayyes
Summary: The five times Magnus Bane reminded Alexander Lightwood, that complacency-in fact, was a bitch.





	Complacency is a Disease

**Author's Note:**

> This is post episode 2.15 and will continue to have excerpts with these two that were never delved into on the show. I love these two and I think Magnus Bane will surely bring upon my death earlier than I anticipated so to be able to write in this fandom, is an honor.

Alec clenched his fist to his side as he languidly grazed across the room. He gritted down on his teeth as he walked past the watchful eyes, those that were already aware of the situation-the exact cluster _fuck_ that had just transpired. The watchful eyes morphed into that of weariness that drilled into his skull and found solace in the confines of the vast space. His head throbbed-the ache that would have persisted whether he did anything to assuage it and exacerbated even if he hadn’t-it wouldn’t have made any difference.

“Alec-“

He bristled as he came to halt-turning on his heel simultaneously at an alarmingly agile pace that had Jace stumble under his own weight as he crashed into Alec’s chest. He pulled back, frowning as he retracted his pointed finger. There was a momentary pause of enigmatic surprise that washed over his face-which then had him grinning from ear to ear.

“What?” Alec said, his curiosity piqued by his smoldering smile.

Jace held his hands out in front of him. “What? Nothing.” He dismissed, “I’m not exactly laughing about this.” And yet, Jace had a level of discrepancy that even he overestimated. At least, when it came to wearing one around them-people he had grown up with for over a decade-he had a better chance at wearing a weary mask than he had his face actually emulating it.

“Tell your face that.” Alec suggested, crossing his hands behind his back. He ran his thumb in circles around his left wrist, his nerves seething in fire just above his palm.

Jace shrugged, dropping his smile. It was a smile he wore so thin, Alec would have discerned to have been something on the border of a glower and a pitiful smirk. The one that Jace would have had plastered over his face when he was resigned at the cause and yet made no effort to vocalize that.

Alec hung his head, briefly shutting his eyes as he rasped out an exhale. The gravity of the situation would not be conducive if he were to undermine it’s consequences. He was responsible for the execution of the delivery and for him to fail, meant that he had to bear the repercussions. That was something he wasn’t privy to and yet-one of the biggest tests at his job and he had done a secure job of messing it up _colossally_.

Which had to mean something in terms of the universe symbolically uniting to remind him that he wasn’t up to it. That being the head of the institute should have stayed a dream and never have come to fruition. At least if it were a grappling intangible goal, he would have nothing tangible to be shattered by.

“Cheer up, Alec.” Jace squeezed his shoulder, “We all messed up.” As if he had just read his mind. Jace threw on a weary thin smirk. He drew his hand up from Alec’s neck and cupped his head as he leaned forward.

“We all knew it wasn’t going to be that easy. I guess we do a pretty good job of underestimating how much leverage we don’t have.” Which, for all intensive purposes, had been a strange thing to say. Alec frowned as Jace pulled back, hand still cupping the back of his head. He bristled strands of his hair before Jace stood beside him, emulating his posture-hands held back,   stern, feet wide apart-not too wide.

_How much leverage we don’t have._

Leverage was such an inapt word. All the indiscretions that have transpired in this institute alone constituted someone’s deruning and yet, they found themselves upholding the task of transporting Valentine from here to _Idris_. A task so significant, if it were up to the clave, there were other options they deemed more viable for this to be upheld by. The London Institute, Cornwall, heck-even Cardiff might have enthralled their proclivities.

And yet, New York had the profound honor of upholding such a volatile task.

And for that very reason, all of the fallacies have been momentarily shrugged under a rug and waiting to inundate them all. The Clave, the mop, waiting to sweep the dust the first chance they get.

So leverage-

Maybe it was sheer luck that salvaged their very brittle grasps.

“You’re going to come to my deruning ceremony then, right?”

Jace snorted under his breath.

“If you come to mine, first.”

* * *

 

Alec had found himself under the frisky night froth, his hands deep into the cushion of his jacket’s pockets. He submerged his head under the hood of the cloth, exhaling harshly under his breath so that the warmth would smear across his face and cut through the slicing cold.

He had expected slightly more yelling and unencumbered scathing vitriol to pass his way but between his mother, Isabelle and Jace, there seemed to be no opportunity for that to happen. Within limits they were able to vocalize their standpoints and somehow, manage to aid him. He had found it slightly amusing but if it were up to him, he had hoped he would have faced the Clave’s unwavering disappointment by himself.

As head of the institute, he could have bore the consequences because that was expected when he didn’t uphold his responsibilities. Having to somehow share the inculpation had made him question who exactly he was leading what exactly his position was.

He was appreciative of their unyielding support.

And yet-

He was dismayed at the fact that he wasn’t sure how worse off it would have been if they hadn’t jumped to his defense. Did that mean that anytime something were to go wrong and he continued to be the head of the institute, there were battles that he necessarily couldn’t fight alone?

Or were there battles that he could _never_ fight alone?

He hovered outside of the penthouse, looking up at the bleary night as the wind slapped across his cheeks in a sharp and ruffled manner that had him inhale sharply just to stifle a raspy growl.

He hadn’t seen Magnus since that morning. As if he was being guided to an onslaught of banter, he had peeked a look but he hadn’t found the familiar face amongst many. There started to be more than he had ever seen in the main op room so he had a hard time discerning those he was well-aware of than he was not.  

Somewhere along the way, his phone had died. He’d carried an external battery that Isabelle had him borrow, slipping it into the helm of his jeans, his battery somewhere on the verge of collapsing if the plug were to be extricated.

Alec slipped through the door and waited for the elevator. He rubbed both his palms together achingly as he exhaled every other second into his hands just to stop the frisky burn. His ears were swarmed by the heat in the confines of the building that had his eardrums buzzing from the stark contrast. He stepped in once the doors opened wide, collapsing his back to the wall as he pressed the button.

He gripped onto the frame of the glass-framed shaft, just then noticing then that it had been different since the last time he had been in it. This time, the walls were transparent glass, mirroring his face in a very similar, if not exact, mirage-as if there was no sense of depth or perception within the glass. It mirrored back just what it had sense, all three large frames, as if he had been facing them each individually-an illusion so illusory, Alec focused on the one wall, the elevator door, until he reached the floor.

Alec gripped onto the plastic bag with the container of Satay and a stand up bag filled with Bakso- the woman at the place had highly recommended the _Bakso_ , said it was a staple of Indonesian cuisine and upon her insistence, and more out of his sheer curiosity, he had bought two. If Magnus wasn’t going to divulge it, he was sure that he would have been more receptive to soup-soup being soup regardless of origin.

A cat slipped past his foot as he stepped into the penthouse, Alec leaning on the frame of the door for leverage as it waltzed past him without any recurrence. As if he was the stool of a table and it had just grazed it’s fur against something ethereal.

“Well-“

“Alexander!” Magnus appeared in a silk robe, an emerald green that had a black wrap enveloped across his waist. He wore high-waisted black satin pants. If he hadn’t noticed the strands from the slippers peeking from underneath the bottom dwelling pants, he would have assumed Magnus was getting ready to just go out.

It wasn’t even late considering Magnus’ standards. It had been just past 9:20 PM.

“Going out?” He asked anyway, not wanting to intrude. He kicked the door shut with the heel of his leg as he stepped closer to Magnus. He cupped his jaw as he pressed his lips against his, offering another peck when Magnus frame froze under his grasp. At first, Alec dismissed it, but as he retracted his hand, he wasn’t blind to the stagnation.

Magnus diverted his gaze from his face until it fell upon the plastic bag in his grapple.

“What’s that?” Magnus slipped his hand through the slits as he peeked in the bag. He shut his eyes closed as he took a swift inhale. “ _Bakso_.” He smiled, waving his fingers mid-air before he dropped them into the bag. He clutched onto a container, abridging the weight in Alec’s grasp. “My favorite.” Magnus whisked his hand into a swift swirl, a ladle soon appearing in between his index and thumb.

Alec watched as the lid disappeared at the snap of Magnus’ frisk fingers, him peeking at , what appeared to be a beef dumpling, maybe even tofu, submerged in a smoldering and appetizing broth, as Magnus took a sip. There was some seaweed, most likely green cabbage immersed within the buoyant rice.

It looked good-probably tasted even better, he surmised.

His stomach groaned at the sight of it, Alec instinctively clutching his stomach to stifle the grumble-but to not avail. Magnus lifted his head up languidly, watching him with keen interest as he snapped his fingers once more, this time plates appearing on a table that hadn’t been there before. This time, it was perched on the balcony.

Alec followed Magnus in, kicking off his shoes as he made his way across the room. He slipped off the scarf off with his free hand, tugging on the zip of his jacket in the process. “I’m not interrupting something, am I?” He had to ask again, only because Magnus held himself up in an inclined manner that made him appear as if he had been waiting to do something-to go _somewhere_.

The curtain lights draped across the picket railing, the light illuminating the stark dark hue and overcast night. The stars above were abundant and yet minimal that the sheer presence of them were dimmed by the dusky hued skies.

Magnus perched over as the cats flurried to him, him swiping his hands over their heads as they scurried up to him, rubbing their tails and raking them around the ankle of his leg. He entertained their propositions as he knelt a little while longer.

The air seemed as if it was drained of any of the blithering cold. As if the night wasn’t as frigid and icy as he had last remembered.

 Alec drew out his chair as he took his seat, dropping the plastic bag onto the table. He swiveled through, pulling out the kraft-take out boxes, dislodging one side of the handle from the box. He repeated the motion on the other side of the container, and turned the box to the folded side. He pulled on the staple until it tore apart, carefully opening the box. He spun the box around and opened the other folded side, a makeshift plate with the contents spread out now in front of him.

The leg of the chair grazed the wooden floor, Alec’s ears perking as he broke apart the chopsticks. He clutched the other one in his free hand, hovering over his plate as he nudged it in Magnus’ direction, only then noticing just how lengthy the table had been. As if it had encompassed his height in length and continued until Magnus appeared as if he were a distant sight to behold. An exaggeration, perhaps-

A miscalculation of his depth perceptiveness?

Alec rubbed at his eyes, the weariness dragging and clutching onto his skin akin to a boulder settling on shoulders. He arched his back as he slipped the chopstick in his grasp, stabbing at the indents between each diced mutton pieces, until they separated just enough for him to slide the skewer in between his lip-just to take a bite.

“I thought today would have been a _fantastic_ day to finally wear this,” Magnus spoke up, a cursory elation hinged onto every word as if the very thought of being able to wear them had in fact delighted him.

Alec held his head as he listened.

His eyes wavered over Magnus, taking notice of his composure with alert curiosity. The first time he met Magnus, he wore this cobalt blue blazer and he hadn’t worn the stubble that graced his cheeks and jaw. His hair was swept in a tight hold and there was a silver band that went across his hair in a slanted angle. He had black nails, sometimes altering them when he wished to do so-his fingers embellished with more accessories than he had first remembered.

Over the past several months, Magnus had started to appear serene, his attire seamlessly restful and warm. Magnus eyes were vivacious as he wore gray tones and unmasked principles of colors that held that bright flicker in his face.

And yet, as he sat across Alec- his eyes were dulled as if even that emerald green could not animate his innate liveliness.

Alec pushed his makeshift plate away, anchoring his elbows on the table as he wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his jacket.

“I have to apologize.” Magnus started, gliding his hand mid-air as if he were catching a apocryphal fly that only he was able to take notice of. “By the time we came back, the downworlders had an emergency meeting at the Seelie Court. I was _asked_ to come.” He bit out as he whirled his hand, a flurry of blue spark lighting above his index finger. “Considering that Valentine has once again found a way to evade, you might understand the chaos spurring amongst them.”

Alec nodded because he knew-and he _understood_. They were in fact the most assailable to Valentine’s onslaught, his anger directed at them for the sole reason that they weren’t as pure-or whatever he spewed out.

The sheer level of ignorance that stemmed from one men had Alec bristling. To hate someone without ever getting to know them seemed counterproductive. More futile than anything.

And maybe that was the point all along-there was no sense of humanity to incur if he had never met any of the people he had slaughtered. Then again, his brute temperament and prejudice were incapable of being explained by benignant standards.

“How did it go?”

Magnus grunted drily. “ _Facetiously_.”

The Bakso appeared in a bowl and slid in his direction from Magnus’ side, a ladle submerged in the broth. Alec dropped the skewer on his plate as he swerved the spoon in the bowl, picking up some rice and tofu in the ladle.

“What are they considering?" Alec questioned, taking a sip, pausing as the warmth enveloped his nostrils. He slid his tongue over his lips as he smacked down on the trace of spices which sparked up his taste buds. The tofu cut through the tang and absorbed the sweet dewy flavor from the broth.

Magnus shrugged. He made no attempt to take a bite of his food. He sat angled away from the table, crossing his leg blithely over the other. He was much more focused on the manner in which he flicked his finger across his ring that graced his thumb than he did on the bowl in front of him.

“Sorry.” Alec offered, the hairs on his neck prickling into his skin as he pulled back from the warmth emanating from the soup. Magnus stagnated at the declaration, his eyes leisurely wavering upwards until they fell upon Alec. “I didn’t mean to bring that up.” He added. He was well-aware of the easiness in which he would unreservedly engage in a discourse surrounding responsibilities that were adequately perfused with detached impassiveness.

Work. Matters in regard to other shadowhunters, or downworlders. More work. He was immersed in them to the point where they inundated his train of thought.

“There is nothing to forgive, Alexander.” And even as Magnus tried to assuage him, Alec was the least bit comforted by it.

The meat went stale as he munched down, a rubbery texture enveloping what had just tasted moist and flavorful. He slowed down his chewing as he kneaded his fingers together, pursing his lips together tightly as he slid back in his chair.

Alec held his gaze on Magnus as he dropped his hands to his sides.

“Did I do something wrong?” Because subtlety was a concept he was unable to grasp even if it were within a grasping distance away. “Because if I did, I want you to tell me.” He clenched his hands into his fists, jabbing them into his thigh just to dull the throbbing in his legs. “ _Please_.” His voice fissured, Alec clamping down on his teeth as he diverted his gaze.

His vision fizzled, Alec quickly blinking fastidiously to clear it up. It hurt to have to lift his head up so he settled on the seam that protruded from the helm of his jacket, picking at the thread with his nimble fingers.

The day had been more than impelling. Maybe he would quietly admit to himself that he had indeed not found a way to be unfazed by it because- _he was_. He was colossally fazed by the sheer hassle of it. The reprimand was what he was complacent with because there was stringency and genericity in what he could expect from their rebukes. He was more than capable in being able to gloss over them because he was well aware of the extent of their castigation.

Those guarded eyes that most wore around him, were eyes that he was familiar with as he wore them most of his entire life. It was this innate ability that he had mustered to be able to empathize without having to vocalize. He didn’t take their vigilance and falsely conflated it with suspicion because these were shadowhunters. These were people who were just as much aware of the responsibilities. as they were of the repercussions of not upholding them. He was able to brush through them without a second thought to spare.

And yet, as Magnus sat across from him, in what seemed to be no illusory- a staggering distance apart, meeting him with indifference that was unparalleled to even the worst demon wound- Alec had a hard time tenuring his composure.

Alec knew how to handle people who were comprehensible, he wasn’t entirely sure how to cope with the antithesis of that from _Magnus Bane_.

He stood up staggeringly, as he pushed back, the legs of the chair grazing the wooden deck as if nails had scratched it’s surface. He bit on his tongue as he swiped his hands across his pants, unnervingly guiding his feet towards the glass ingress. Alec mustered up fortitude as he walked towards the confines of the penthouse, only to halt abruptly as familiar hands clutched his wrist.

He had no time to shake the grip, nor he had no intent to do so, as he whirled around from the tug to come face with Magnus, their postures leveled against each other, Alec wavering his eyes lower as he glanced at Magnus.

Magnus slid his hand up from his arm, over his torso and settled it against the crane of his neck. He thumbed Alec’s flesh, running his finger in circles with such clear purpose, Alec settled into the touch and eased in. If he were being honest, he wasn’t even trying to extricate himself from the grasp. He had been looking forward to _this_ more than he was to eating. Or finding much needed shut-eye.

It was the way in which Magnus incited his nerves on fire the moment he had made contact with Alec’s flesh, as if the mere presence was enough to induce such a response. It was the way Magnus would concentrate on even the most mundane things, such as kneading their fingers together arbitrarily yet holding on as if there was much more purpose than he could ever muster. It was the way Magnus would embrace him as if there was no one else he wanted to embrace. It was the way his eyes would return to their delicate sparkle and somehow manage to find a way to dispense that radiation onto Alec.

It was the way Alec would never find complacency in such a cradle because every touch felt like the _first_ touch.

“I love you.”

Alec pressed his forehead against Magnus’, breathing in his scent with ardency that he wasn’t even aware of. He slipped his hands across Magnus’ back and kneaded his hands together, clutching on as if Magnus were a delicacy that were to slip through his hands without a moment’s notice.

“I love _you_.” The words slipping past his tongue with such ease, Alec has to ponder himself how anything can ever be said so effortlessly.

And yet, as he caught Magnus’ sprightly, light-hearted grin, he has to remind himself that the he was grateful every time he had the _opportunity_ to be able to somehow articulate just how much Magnus had meant to him.

These three words were never enough-

But for now, they would suffice.

 

**Author's Note:**

> THANK YOUUUUUUUUU for reading.
> 
> Hit me up on TUMBLR: okaywhateverokayyes


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